A photo on the website of the Old Town Museum at Aarhus reminded me of the significance of an item I had inherited from my grandmother upon her death in the mid-1990s, as given to me by mother. My grandmother did not have a list of items in her will as such to distribute to her family after her death. My mother and uncle were left to decide who was to inherit what. My mother decided upon two items, but she didn't tell me why she had chosen these two items. Yes, there were some general items too, but these two items had particular significance and more than 20 years later, I think I understand my mother's choice.
One of the items my mother chose to give me as my inheritance was a wedding tablecloth given to my grandparents as a wedding present in 1947, which had embroidered upon the blue cloth a white image of Viborg Cathedral, Domkirke Viborg. My mother giving me this was her way of telling me that I should always remember my Danish identity and my grandparents.
So the backstory goes thus: my grandfather was a British soldier who landed in Viborg in May 1945 as part of the Allied Forces that liberated Denmark and met a local woman with whom he began a relationship - my grandmother. They were married at Viborg Cathedral and moved back to Doncaster, England, where they settled and raised two children, my mother and my uncle. My grandfather returned to his job at the railway works and, after renting a flat for about two years, the housing department gave the keys to him to a brand new three-bedroom semi-detached house, truly a home fit for heroes, as promised to all war veterans by the Labour government. This was a promise of better housing to make up for the broken promise made to veterans of the First World War, my grandfather's father's generation, who lived in overcrowded back-to-back houses.
As a single person, 50 years old, I will pass this tablecloth onto my niece
One of the items my mother chose to give me as my inheritance was a wedding tablecloth given to my grandparents as a wedding present in 1947, which had embroidered upon the blue cloth a white image of Viborg Cathedral, Domkirke Viborg. My mother giving me this was her way of telling me that I should always remember my Danish identity and my grandparents.
So the backstory goes thus: my grandfather was a British soldier who landed in Viborg in May 1945 as part of the Allied Forces that liberated Denmark and met a local woman with whom he began a relationship - my grandmother. They were married at Viborg Cathedral and moved back to Doncaster, England, where they settled and raised two children, my mother and my uncle. My grandfather returned to his job at the railway works and, after renting a flat for about two years, the housing department gave the keys to him to a brand new three-bedroom semi-detached house, truly a home fit for heroes, as promised to all war veterans by the Labour government. This was a promise of better housing to make up for the broken promise made to veterans of the First World War, my grandfather's father's generation, who lived in overcrowded back-to-back houses.
As a single person, 50 years old, I will pass this tablecloth onto my niece
